


Something Wicked This Way Comes

by AloeAloe



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Demon Summoning, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AloeAloe/pseuds/AloeAloe
Summary: “Take heed, for if thou presumeth to flirt with spirits, thou shalt join them.” K. HiranoA tragic incident pushes Waylon to breaking point.  He would do anything to restore his beloved family, even if it means risking his principles, his sanity and his life.  Waylon is willing to make a deal with the devil and, although he thinks his life has finally hit rock bottom, there is always further to fall.Complete.





	1. A Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. Comments and kudos are always appreciated, as are suggestions. This is intended to be a two part piece, but that might change depending on where the story takes me. As my first piece of fiction on this site, I hope you enjoy it and please do stop by again - things will only get darker from here. 
> 
> AloeAloe

~~~~~~~~~~~~My wife... my life...my Lisa...

It had been seven months since the accident. Though the days dragged on, Waylon felt strangely fixed in time. His emotions were no less raw than the day it happened, the pain no less biting. Well meaning friends and family members continually tried to comfort him with the same tired phrases, the same condescending looks of pity. With every supposed act of assurance, Waylon’s fists clenched a little tighter, his appreciative smile became that little bit more forced.

A slithering, guilty part of him whispered that it would have been easier if Lisa _had_ died - then he’d have had a month, two months of this shit before being left well alone to grieve. In moments of weakness, ones like their anniversary or Lisa’s birthday, these whispers became bellows thrumming in his ears, and he had to grit his teeth to stop them tumbling from his between lips.

Time only brought fresh waves of loss; he was haunted by the ghost of her, the empty space she left in her wake. Gaps she had previously filled yawned open in the rooms of their - his - house, and time, rather than filling this hole, this void, only made it gape wider with each passing day. He was going to be swallowed whole by the sheer loss of her. It was a coma, but it may as well have been a death sentence. And the children, oh _God_ , the children...

His wife, his boys: he would do anything for them. They were the reason he was about to risk everything without the slightest hesitation.

He was about to make a deal with the devil.

* * *

 

Through his work for the Murkoff Corporation - the leading specialists in supernatural research - Waylon was well acquainted with the supposedly ‘forbidden’ art of summoning. During Victorian times, partly fuelled by the period’s obsession with the occult (ouija boards, seances and all that crap), some poor schmuck had discovered that yes, you could summon ‘demons’ from the ‘other side’ - wherever the hell that was.

People foolish enough to try it, however, quickly found that this was often more trouble than it was worth. Twenty percent of the time, these ‘demons’ would listen to and assist their summoners in whatever nefarious act they had been called up to perform. For the other eighty percent, the monster would go berserk and end up killing or maiming the summoner and anyone unlucky enough to be in the general vicinity.

Needless to say, the calling of these creatures (no one really knew exactly what they were) was quickly made illegal, with harsh penalties for anyone dumb enough to give it a go.

The Murkoff Corporation, however, were flexible when it came to the law. The company had been carrying out clandestine summonings for years and reaping the rewards. Waylon only found out about the illegal activity after joining the company. But by then, he was too tied up in contracts and non-disclosure agreements to do anything but suck it up and play along, as much as it galled him.

Through Murkoff, he had been witness to the wonderful and terrible in perhaps equal measure. So far, he had simply been an observer. He had monitored these meetings between humans and demons (demons was the term he felt most comfortable using, considering their often nightmarish appearance) to ensure that the process carried out smoothly and that there were no... unnecessary incidents.

Waylon had watched and Waylon had learned. Although he had never conducted a summoning himself, he knew how to. He knew the immense power those beasts wielded and how it could be used. And Waylon was about to make use of that knowledge.

* * *

 He stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. The calling circle was immaculate and drawn in pure white chalk across the once dusty floor. He’d practised tracing the intricate patterns and swirls countless times at home, painfully aware that a single smudge or sloppily drawn symbol could result in a botched summoning. That would be bad, to put it lightly. An imprecise circle could result in complete failure, calling up the wrong demon or, as a worst case scenario, calling up the right demon and having them kill you for not bothering to get their summoning ritual right. He’d seen it happen.

A sudden chill ran through him and he shuddered. The room was only dimly lit by several candles spaced around the circle - he’d wanted to avoid attracting unwanted attention - and he could see his breath misting in front of him before it disappeared into the gloom.

He’d chosen the attic of an abandoned medical practice on the outskirts of town for the calling. Although this was normally a favourite haunt of the local thugs and lowlifes, as demonstrated by the heavily graffitied walls, broken glass and strewn bottles, thankfully the bitter cold of winter had kept them away. He had been worried, unnecessarily so, about this place being occupied. It would do Waylon no good getting arrested for an illegal summoning, but that wasn’t his only motivation for choosing such an isolated location. There was no way he was calling up this thing in the same house as his children, so he’d opted for a safer option. Safer for them, not him. If things went wrong, then there’d be no one around to help.

‘Not that anyone would be able to do much anyway,’ he thought bitterly.

Waylon didn’t dare to consider the consequences of things going wrong. His children growing up without a mother was unbearable. But without a mother or a father? It was beyond comprehension.

“I can’t fail,” he repeatedly muttered: his mantra. If he said it enough times, perhaps it would become true?

His pulse beat out a nervous rhythm, pounding in his temples. Waylon took a moment to steel himself and firm his resolve. It was time. Reaching out, he pressed the tips of his fingers against the chalk outline he had drawn. It was as if he’d placed the pads of his fingers against a live wire; a shiver of energy shot up his arms and he flinched at the sensation.

“I can’t fail,” he repeated, and then sent a pulse of power into the summoning circle.

When it came to calling creatures from the beyond, Hollywood had got things dead wrong. There was no flash of blinding light, no smoke eerily emanating from the circle, no haunting howls or groans: there was a complete lack of the gothic drama that is a staple of the horror film industry. What Waylon was doing was as simple as knocking on a door, knocking on a door and asking, “Are you there?”

In this case, the answer was yes.

_“When I was a boy my mother often said to me, get married, son and see how happy you will be....”_

Inside the circle, a figure began to materialise. Waylon, who had been crouched at the edge of the chalk lines, leapt back as if burned and lay sprawled at the feet of who - or what- he had summoned.

The Groom.

_“I have looked all over, but no girlie can I find, who seems to be just like the little girl I have in mind...”_

Waylon had found out about this particular demon, known as ‘The Groom’ or simply ‘Gluskin’, from a crumbling Edwardian text concerning summoning he’d found deep in the Murkoff vaults. Yes, it had labelled Gluskin as ‘particularly violent and virulent’, but from what Waylon had seen, all demons were dangerous. It wasn’t unusual for there to be one to two staff deaths every several months or so; Waylon wasn’t fazed by the book’s warning. It also claimed that Gluskin was ‘extremely preoccupied with marriage and spousal intimacy’. As a rule, supernatural beings were notoriously capricious and Murkoff’s callings frequently ended in failure. Waylon was hopeful that Gluskin, with his fixation on matrimony, would be likely to lend a sympathetic ear, and hopefully his power, to resolve his plight.

With this demon’s help, Lisa was within reach. _With this demon’s help..._

An imposing figure, massive by human proportions, now loomed over Waylon. White teeth flashed in the darkness. Eyes, one unnaturally blue, the other crimson and bloodshot stared down at him. “Darling!” a sing song voice proclaimed. “You called for me and I came. How may I help such a pretty girl as you?

‘Pretty... _girl_?’ Waylon thought, confused, but he quickly brushed it aside. All demons had their ‘quirks’ and this must be Gluskin’s. Personally, Waylon thought that something about the summoning process messed with demons’ mental faculties, but there was no way to prove it.

Due to what Waylon had already seen at Murkoff, Gluskin’s appearance shouldn’t have startled him. However, he was completely unprepared for the sheer scale of the man. The Groom was easily well over six feet tall and his _face_. Those _eyes_. The blistered skin obscuring half of the man’s face and his mismatched eyes equally repulsed and fascinated Waylon - much like how the pull of looking at the remains of a grizzly car crash at the side of the road is darkly irresistible. Furthermore, the fact that The Groom’s crudely stitched suit was adorned with conspicuous rust coloured stains did nothing to alleviate his intimidating appearance.

Swallowing heavily, eyes fixed on the grinning form in front of him, Waylon scrambled to stand and regain a semblance of dignity. Feeling somewhat ridiculous, but determined to do things properly, he held out a hand for the ‘man’ to shake. “Mr Gluskin, I c-called you regarding a-“

“Mr Gluskin? Darling, there’s no need to be so formal with me! Consider how close we are!” The demon made a sudden grab for Waylon’s proffered hand and, instead of shaking it, clutched it between his hot palms. “I think at this stage it would only be proper for you to address me by my first name.”

“F-first name?” Waylon blinked up at the demon. The man’s grip was strong and peculiarly warm.

“Of course! ‘Eddie’ will do perfectly. I can’t wait to hear it on your lips.”

Waylon laughed nervously, trying to brush off the strangeness. “R-right. E-Eddie, I called you here because-“

“Oh, my love, there’s no need for you to tell! I already know”

Waylon’s stomach lurched. “You do?”

“Oh yes, there’s no need to be coy with me, my little minx.”

The grip on Waylon’s hands was becoming painful. The Groom had pulled him forward so that he was now stood in the summoning circle with the demon. His feet had scuffed the chalk outline he had drawn so meticulously, and they stood almost chest to chest. ‘Eddie’ had a strong metallic scent, and Waylon couldn’t help but notice what looked like blood crusted under the other man’s finger nails.

The Groom lifted a dirty hand and trailed it through Waylon’s hair. The sudden intimacy made him shudder. “You have amazing bone structure and such soft skin.” The hand moved down to cup Waylon’s jaw. “You just couldn’t wait to have me all to yourself... a romantic rendezvous for just the two of us...”

The roiling, twisting feeling in Waylon’s gut intensified. This was beyond a quirk. Eddie - this demon he had summoned - was clearly delusional. _Romantic rendezvous_? Waylon had never set eyes on this freak in his life: the sudden cloying intimacy was more than concerning. Gluskin wasn’t even human - he was just masquerading as one! All Waylon wanted was this thing’s power, not some garbled rubbish about being this lunatic’s ‘darling’. The Groom was clearly powerful, both physically and in supernatural sense. The air around the man thrummed with energy, but would he be able to use or control that power in any useful way to help Waylon? To help Lisa? It was beginning to seem unlikely, but Waylon was willing to keep pushing.

He couldn’t fail.

“W-well, I did call you for a reason, Eddie,” Waylon started, intimidated by The Groom’s unwavering attention. “There’s someone I need you to help.”

To Waylon’s horror, Eddie had leaned forward and was pressing his lips against his forehead and hair. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but not far removed either. He tried to pull back and dislodge him, but Eddie’s grip was inhumanly strong. “I am nothing if not a gentleman,” the creature murmured into Waylon’s hair. “I would do anything for you, my darling.”

“That’s great, th-thank you,” Waylon had to stifle a yelp as The Groom’s hand reached down to grip at his shoulders and his sides, just slightly too tight to be comfortable. “A woman, her name is Lisa, I need you to make her better.”

Gluskin’s hands froze.

“Another woman? Darling, why would you ask me to-“

“I need you to help her!” Waylon persisted, ignoring the sudden, rigid change in Eddie’s posture. “She’s been in a coma for months. If you use your power, she could-!”

“You want me to use my power to help another woman?” Eddie’s tone was rough, different from how it had been moments before, but it didn’t deter Waylon.

“Yes! She’s been ill, but you could help her and- please! I’d do anything, anything for this! For her!”

After Waylon’s outburst, there was an ominous silence. Eddie, in contrast to his earlier suffocating affection, regarded Waylon silently. The demon had stepped back, holding Waylon at arm’s length. His posture appeared rigid, cold eyes evaluating him seriously. Although the cloying affection had been intensely uncomfortable, this sudden shift in mood came with a strong sense of foreboding.

Waylon cracked. “C-can you do it?” His voice sounded terribly frail, even to his own ears.

There was a pause and then, as suddenly as it had left, Eddie’s beaming smile returned. He barked out a laugh, stepping forward to run a hand over Waylon’s hair and then lowered it to cup his chin.

“Silly girl,” he said, tilting Waylon’s face upward so they locked eyes, “fixing a mere mortal is as easy as can be.”

Waylon choked back a sob. Lisa! He’d done it! In his heightened state of emotion, he clutched at the hand Eddie was cupping his jaw with. “You can,” he spluttered. “Oh, thank you! Thank you!”

Eddie beamed. “Excellent! I’m so glad to have put a smile on that lovely face. Now, all that’s left to do is the wedding - you’ll be so beautiful.”

A pause. In the sudden quiet, Waylon thought he could hear the scuttle of rats in the roof above him.

“The...wedding?”

Eddie’s mismatched eyes gleamed with a maniacal light. “Of course, darling! Some call it a bond, some call it a contract, but I’ve always been old fashioned, so it’s ‘marriage’ for me. And to think that my beloved would be a girl as beautiful as you - mother would be so proud!” Suddenly, Gluskin grabbed at Waylon and yanked him painfully forward. “Man and wife! We’ll live in perfect bliss. I want a family, a legacy: to be the father I never had!“

Man and wife? Waylon’s mind flashed to his own wife, his Lisa, stretched out on a hospital bed with the tubes and the machines and the constant electrical hum, monitoring, preserving her lie of a life indefinitely. That was the image that was beginning to overlay the Lisa of when they first met, the Lisa of their wedding day and the woman smiling up at him as she held their first child in her arms. That pallid, pale creature surrounded by machines and skin laced with tubes was not his wife. His Lisa was a living, laughing creature who dazzled him in small, mighty ways every day. His Lisa: she was the mother of his children and the one with whom he shared his bed and his life.

But, she wasn’t there any more. She had left one day and gone to a place where he could not follow. All he had now was her shell, the husk of her, the cast off skin shed by a snake. The hollowness in Waylon’s gut was becoming unbearable.

The rapid beat of his pulse was deafening in his ears. “A-and if I marry you,” he said, “you’ll bring her back? You’ll bring Lisa back?”

Gluskin nodded. “Oh yes, I’d do anything for you, my blushing bride.”

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth: his life for Lisa’s. Could he make that sacrifice?  
  
To Waylon, there was only one answer.

 

 

 

 


	2. A Fork in the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it looks like this is going to be a three part thing after all. Well, it is a magic number.
> 
> I wasn’t planning on updating so quickly, but I’ve been riding a bit of a creative wave recently, so why not? Thanks for the comments and kudos so far - I hope this latest addition doesn’t disappoint.

_“Like one, that on a lonesome road_  
_Doth walk in fear and dread,_  
_And having once turned round walks on,_  
_And turns no more his head;_  
_Because he knows, a frightful fiend_  
_Doth close behind him tread.”_

S.T. Coleridge

* * *

 

“What the fuck, Park? You haven’t been in work all week!”

“I know, Mr Blaire, but-”

“Cut the bullshit! I don’t care whatever drama you’ve got going on, you need to drag your ass into work, or I’ll come and do it for you!”

A pause.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good! I’m glad that we understand each other - thanks for wasting my time.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but-“

The line went dead.

Waylon put the phone back on the receiver and ran a hand through his hair. Which was a more fearsome prospect, forming a contract with a semi-psychotic demon or incurring the wrath of Jeremy Blaire? He wasn’t sure.

It was midday and the kids were at school. The weak winter sunlight filtered through the living room windows, illuminating framed family photos, lovingly dusted; various toys scattered across the carpet; and Waylon’s tired form. He stood slightly hunched, pressing the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.

Things had been... different since he had summoned The Groom.

* * *

 

“A-and if I marry you, you’ll bring her back? You’ll bring Lisa back?”

“Oh yes, I’d do anything for you, my blushing bride.”

And Waylon had found himself presented with two paths. One he knew sickeningly well as he had walked it for the last seven months. It was a path that could only be walked alone, barren apart from hospital beds lining the way, the suffocating pity of others hanging in the air and completely devoid of life, love and Lisa. Now, there was a fork in the road. This second path was the one Eddie beckoned him to follow; it was narrow and the way was only dimly lit - Waylon couldn’t see beyond its first turn. This path, Eddie’s path, could lead him back to her, his Lisa. Danger or no, any road that could end with her was the one Waylon would inevitably take.

Waylon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes.”

The choice had been made.

Gluskin smiled. It jarred with his scarred and scabbed countenance: Waylon quickly looked away. This demon - Eddie - leaned forward and engulfed him in his arms: an embrace. Waylon did all he could not to become rigid in the man’s grip.

“I knew it,” Eddie breathed against the soft skin of Waylon’s neck. His voice was loaded with emotion. “I knew you were the one. _My bride_.”

They stood like that for several minutes: a warped tableau of affection. Waylon’s arms remained awkwardly hanging at his sides, juxtaposing with Eddie’s crushing embrace.

Eddie’s hands... _wandered_. They rubbed across his back, his shoulders and moved lower to rest upon Waylon’s hips. All the while, he could feel Eddie’s heavy breathing against his neck and couldn’t help but shudder when the demon began to press kisses against the sensitive flesh.

Feeling this, Gluskin pulled back. The demon’s pupils were dilated and a slight flush tinged his pallid skin - Waylon had to repress another shudder of disgust at this creature’s obvious desire for him. But this was the road he chose; if playing house with this monster could get her back, then so be it.

“ _Darling_ ,” he breathed, raising a hand to cup Waylon’s cheek. “There’s no need to be nervous. I know I’m being somewhat vulgar, but trust me that I’m not toying with your affections. We’re going to make it official, so this much should be alright for now. How can a man resist when presented with such beauty?”

Waylon would have said something to protest, but that was the moment Eddie moved forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden intrusion and Eddie took this as a cue to slip his tongue into his mouth. Eddie tasted strangely metallic, and he was repulsed by the sensation of the other man’s tongue lapping at his own. Now if it was a woman, if this was Lisa, then he was sure the sensation would be quite pleasant. However, having this huge creature hunched over him, grabbing at his hips and slobbering into his mouth was... less than pleasant.

Waylon shivered again. This time, however, Eddie clearly interpreted it as being from desire. He pulled himself from the smaller man, leaving him spluttering. “My little minx,” he said. “You are a temptress. You want to go all the way?”

Waylon swore that he could feel his heart stop. No, he did not want ‘to go all the way’. What he wanted was to get what the fuck he needed from this creature and then never see the bastard again in his entire life.

Eddie continued speaking, completely oblivious to Waylon’s turmoil. “Darling, I know it’s disappointing, but we can’t do that just yet - we’ve got to make things official,” Eddie’s tone was conciliatory. “But that doesn’t stop me from giving you a little more of what you want.”

 _‘More of what I want?’_ Waylon didn’t even have time to fully comprehend the ominous statement before Eddie pulled him forward to grind their hips together.  
  
Eddie growled. Waylon could easily feel the demon’s hardness pressing against his own length and was horrified to feel a spike of desire at the contact. _No! He didn’t want this!_

Eddie continued to press against Waylon and then, apparently frustrated by their difference in height, suddenly gripped below Waylon’s thighs and hoisted him up. Waylon yowled - as a fully grown man, he was not used to such treatment - God, he wasn’t even strong enough to do this to Lisa.

Eddie carried Waylon as if he weighed nothing. He then pushed the smaller man against one of the graffiti covered walls, snarled with satisfaction, and continue to press against him.

“My little minx,” the man hissed, pressing sloppy kisses against Waylon’s lips. “My darling whore...”

Waylon was torn between heaven and hell. Since Lisa’s accident, the only sexual relief he had experienced was from his own right hand. It was that, he told himself, not desire for this scarred monster, this beast, that meant his cock was fully hard and beginning to ooze pre-come at the rough treatment.

Eddie seemed to be in much the same condition. The demon’s thrusts were erratic and he was breathing heavily. Waylon could clearly feel the sheer size of this monster’s cock as it pressed against his own. At this point, his mind was in such disarray that the sensation aroused rather than disgusted him.

“Darling, darling,” the other man panted, reaching a hand around to press behind Waylon, stroking up and down the clothed crack of his ass. “Just wait ‘till we’re married, then I’ll fuck you in your tight little _cunt_ as much as you like.”

Waylon gasped at the press of Eddie’s fingers. He forgot about his wife, the fact that Eddie was a delusional freak probably as ready to kill him as to help him: all he could knew was the sensation of Eddie’s cock against his own and the sweet pressure of his fingers against his ass.

Eddie paused suddenly, remaining frozen against him. Waylon continued to pant, simultaneously painfully close and painfully far from climax.

Eddie moved. The pressure against his cock, his ass, was suddenly gone. Waylon was left to lean heavily against the dirty wall for support, taking in gulps of air like a near drowning man.

Eddie had moved back and was now facing away from Waylon. His shoulders trembled slightly, but when he turned back around, the look of predatory desire was gone, replaced by almost an apologetic air.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, seeming genuinely concerned. “There was me saying we wouldn’t go too far, but look at how well my restraint lasted! You should really be more careful, darling, you don’t know the kind of effect you can have on a man.”

Waylon was having some trouble processing information. He was still painfully hard, but the red haze was abating. What the hell had he just done?

“I can see you’re distressed. I've been a little... vulgar, I know. And I want to say, I'm sorry. I just... you know how a man gets when he wants to know a woman. But after the ceremony, when I've made an honest woman of you... I promise I'll be a different man.”

“It’s... it’s okay,” Waylon managed to choke out, although it was anything but.

“Good. _Good_!” Eddie said, advancing to take both of Waylon’s hands between his own. “Of course there’s a lot to prepare for the wedding, but we can form the engagement now. I’m so sorry, darling, but I don’t have a ring just yet - this was such a wonderful surprise - but we can still make do!”

Were Eddie’s delusions so deep that, not only did he believe Waylon was a woman (despite the obvious evidence to the contrary) that he wanted to present him with a wedding ring? “Make do?” he asked.

“Oh yes! It’s a bit unconventional, I know, and I’m sorry that you’ll be in a little...discomfort. I know the fairer sex can be a little squeamish about such things, but it really can’t be helped,” Eddie chatted on contentedly, completely oblivious to Waylon’s confusion.

“Wait, Eddie,” he said, pausing the other man’s monologue. ”What do you need?”

The demon’s mismatched eyes stared down at him.

“ _Blood_.”

* * *

 

Throwing himself down on the sofa, Waylon raised his hand and looked down at the vivid red wound etched across his palm. It throbbed dully.

Eddie had insisted. He claimed that the mixing of their blood was essential to formalise their ‘engagement’ and that he would be unable to help Lisa without doing it. The Groom had sliced his own palm first, the liquid that welled up thick and a rich crimson, before having Waylon do the same. Waylon’s hands has shook as he had held the knife, one which Eddie had materialised from an inside pocket of his waistcoat. When they pressed their bloody palms together, a macabre parody of holding hands, his stomach lurched and he had to restrain himself from vomiting all over Eddie’s proffered wrist. He had tried hopelessly not to think of H.I.V. or any other blood borne diseases, but the fact that Eddie wasn’t even human probably ruled out any mortal maladies. However, that he was swapping blood with _someone who wasn’t even human_ provided perhaps an even more frightening prospect.

Waylon lowered his hand and slumped back into the cushions. God, how he wished for the pain killers to finally kick in. Since mixing his blood with Eddie’s, his head had throbbed incessantly and his body ached as if he was coming down with the flu. There were dark circles under his eyes and, despite taking sleeping pills on several occasions (he’d become somewhat reliant on them since Lisa’s accident), he’d slept very little.

Waylon had a sinking suspicion that this was a punishment for his moment of weakness with Eddie. He hadn’t wanted it...until he did. His thoughts were a mess. _What would Lisa think?_

Lisa. All of his thoughts ended with her. Waylon cast a glance over the family photos lining the walls and the mantelpiece. His eye was drawn to a particularly striking picture taken on the day of their wedding; after meeting Eddie, his thoughts were slipping to the idea of marriage more and more. He and Lisa appeared to be sharing an idyllic moment, laughing as they walked arm in arm through the ground of the manor they’d hired for the ceremony. In reality, Waylon had just trodden on the hem of her dress and nearly sent them both sprawling: they had both been laughing at what a clumsy ass he was.

He sighed and looked away from the photo. It had been a happier time. He doubted that he’d end up sharing any such moments of intimacy with Eddie during their warped farce of matrimony.

Waylon still couldn’t quite believe what he’d got himself into.

It had been five days since his meeting with the demon and the whole experience felt surreal to him - as if he had watched the whole episode in a film rather than been an active participant himself. The Waylon he knew was a logical, diligent man who cared for his family and wouldn’t do anything so utterly insane as agreeing to wed a clearly unhinged monster from the other side. If things went wrong, as he had a sinking suspicion they would, he’d probably be dead and his children would be left without a mother or a father.

Well, there was no point dwelling on choices already made.

Those five days hadn’t been easy. Not only had he he been living with the self-disgust at what he had done, there had been no change in Lisa’s condition. Eddie had claimed that he would need a lock of her hair, a photograph and the ‘finalisation’ of the wedding in order to heal her. Not only that, but he’d felt persistently unwell. He’d told himself that it was nerves. After all, forming an insane ‘marriage agreement’ with a delusional monster from the other side was bound to give anyone the jitters.

Marriage. Gluskin was intending, at least in his twisted understanding of the term, to ‘marry’ Waylon. The sharing of the blood was unconventional - Waylon had never seen it done during a summoning, but brushed it off because there were still large gaps in understanding regarding demon law. Not only that, but he had also never heard of another demon refer to forming a contract as a ‘wedding’ before. Before he had attributed it to being one of The Groom’s quirks, but he was beginning to think he had signed up for something without fully understanding what it was. The weight of the unknown was oppressive and Waylon, already battered and bloodied from the loss of his wife, wasn’t sure he could hold up under the strain.

‘If only I could sleep,’ he thought, rubbing his tired eyes. No rest for the wicked, he supposed.

Looking at the clock, he realised he had to leave. Although it pained him not to see his boys one last time before he left (his cousin was picking them up from school), he knew it was for the best.

He picked up the photograph of Lisa (one from a holiday they went on last year) and the lock of her hair he had set aside earlier. He’d taken it when he visited her in hospital earlier that day. He’d told her they’d be together again soon, but he didn’t really believe she heard him. It didn’t really matter though, because he’d be able to talk to her in person soon. Tucking the precious objects into his satchel, Waylon took a last lingering look at his house, his home, before heading out.  
  
Waylon closed the door behind him and, just about to lock up, paused for a moment. Looking thoughtful, he re-opened the door went back inside. A couple of minutes later, he re-emerged. This time, he had a gun tucked securely inside his jacket pocket.

* * *

 

Eddie had chosen the setting for their next meeting: a dilapidated church around forty miles away. His instructions on how to get there had been extremely specific and Waylon had to wonder how such a creature could be so familiar with human roads. Perhaps all monsters from the other side were built with on board GPS? The thought made Waylon snort.

Waylon was, however, thankful for Eddie’s meticulous instructions. The church, contrary to where you’d logically expect to find a church, had been built in such a remote location that it was as if the architect didn’t want to attract any worshipers. Waylon had to park the car and then go trekking through woodland to find it. Even then, he only knew where to park the car thanks to a landmark mentioned by Eddie: a derelict cattle shed on a once thriving, now deceased, farm.

When he finally found the building, it was clear that it was old. I looked like it belonged to a time when gothic architecture was all the rage; it wouldn’t have looked out of place in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Waylon had to wonder whether in better times there had been a settlement around the church that had long since died off, leaving this building as the only indication it had ever existed. There was no way of knowing.

He reached the front heavy front doors, miraculously still intact. He half expected to find them to be locked or rusted shut, but they creaked open when he pushed his shoulder against them, permitting him entrance.

He stood at the threshold, peering into the relative gloom of the church. Would he fall or would he fly?

He was about to find out.

* * *

 

The building was dark, but there was enough weak winter light filtering through the high windows for Waylon to see by. Thankfully, its remote location meant that the church had been left untouched by vandals or anyone else; Waylon was probably the first person to enter the building in years. There was a bare alter, pews in a state of disarray and loose piles of leaves that had blown in through a broken window.

Although they’d been close, it seemed as though the church hadn’t been fully completed. There were conspicuous gaps on the floor where there should have been intricate stonework and an incomplete mural adorning one wall. It was clearly depicting a scene of some religious significance, although Waylon had no idea which. The painting had all but been completed: apart from the faces of the subjects. He knew that artists often painted the faces last, but the gaps where eyes, lips and mouths, should have been, the things that made the figures truly human, gaped accusingly at Waylon. He quickly averted his gaze.

Perhaps the most notable thing in the room was an absence: Eddie wasn’t there.

To be honest, Waylon wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to work. To his understanding, demons were dependent on their summoners to be able to materialise in the human world. However, Eddie had made no mention of a second summoning. Waylon had brought the necessary materials with him just in case, chalk and a cloth to clear the floor (he tried not to think of the gun), but a part of him was inexplicably relieved that The Groom wasn’t there. If Eddie didn’t show up, no one could blame Waylon for not trying to help his wife. If Eddie didn’t show up, Waylon could back out of this twisted narrative without shame. But...if Eddie didn’t show up, _then what about Lisa?_

Before he had time to feel guilty for his weakness, Waylon’s injured hand suddenly throbbed with agonising pain. He gasped and stumbled; it was as if someone had just slid broken glass across his already injured flesh.

Wind whispered through the room and, though his vision was blurred with pain, Waylon abruptly sensed someone - something - behind him.

Waylon flinched when a hand rested heavily on his shoulder. “Darling! I knew you’d come!”

The stage was set and the performers were in place: the opening curtain was about to rise.

 


	3. Mea Culpa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m going to stop guessing how many chapters there are going to be. It turns out that I’m a bit more wordy than I thought. Maybe a lot more wordy...
> 
> Thanks again for the comments and kudos.

_“If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies."_

_While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, crying to the moon, "If only, If only.”_

Louis Sachar

* * *

 

Memories are made of beginnings and endings: first and last times.The first time you met, kissed, made love - these memories remain vivid and crisp, waiting to be shared, laughed at and cried over in the years to come.Endings also gain huge significance.Events that seemed so insignificant, so inconsequential, can become looming ‘what if’ moments that we nurse like old wounds, wishing and wishing that if only we knew then what we know now, things could have been different, things could have been _better_.However, we can only make our choices once and regret is a futile thing. 

As a grown man, Waylon had experienced many of these moments: his wedding day, the births of his children, the night his father died.Waylon, although he was as of yet unaware of it, was soon to experience another beginning and ending.As the old cliché goes, as one door closes, another one opens.Whether we have the power to choose which doors open and which doors close, however, is another matter entirely.Sometimes, we don’t even walk through the doors that open before us. We are dragged.

* * *

 

“Darling! I knew you’d come!”

What the..? _How could Eddie be here?_ To Waylon’s knowledge (it was written in every book on demonology he had ever read) those from the other side could only materialise in the mortal world with the help of a summoning circle.So, how had Eddie bypassed such a rule? 

The abrupt appearance of the other man did nothing to help Waylon’s now perpetual headache and his wounded palm continued thrum with pain.Could it have got infected? It was pointless to speculate: he had mixed his blood with a demon’s, for God’s sake, infection was probably going to be the least of his worries.

The grip on his shoulder strengthened and Waylon allowed himself to be turned to face the one addressing him: Eddie.The demon cast a long, dark shadow in the early evening light.His ghastly appearance jarred with the pious setting.The scabs on his face were just as vividly red, his skin just as pallid and his left eye still bloodshot and crimson in comparison to his right.He was dressed as he had been when they had first met, although Waylon would swear that there were more rust coloured patches tainting the roughly sewn fabric of his suit. 

There was one difference, however.This time, Eddie was carrying something in his free hand.A bundle of fabric?It was off-white with sporadic patches of delicate lace. 

The Groom leant down to place a chaste kiss on Waylon’s cheek before stepping back to survey their surroundings.“Isn’t it perfect!”Eddie gestured to the church, unfinished and empty apart from its bare alter and scattered pews.“There couldn’t be a better place for our big day! I knew you’d love it.”

Waylon remained silent.So, The Groom’s delusions went beyond feminising any loser who was fool enough to summon him, he grimly noted.The freak could believe any dump was a palace. 

Eddie continued to address him, oblivious to Waylon’s lack of response.“It’s a shame about the guests.I did round up a few people, but... they couldn’t make it.Although, I do have this for you, my little minx” 

Eddie held the white fabric he’d been carrying between his hands and let it unfurl before Waylon.

With a nauseating lurch, he realised that the material Eddie had been clutching was in fact a wedding dress, although unlike any such garment Waylon had ever seen.Eddie, grinning encouragingly, held it up for him to survey.It was a dress fit for the bride of a monster.The fabric was clearly meant to be a crisp white, but some sections were faded slightly yellow (from age, Waylon hoped) and the stitching was clearly visible, interspersed with seemingly random patches of lace.The shape was also odd - where there should have been an allowance for curves in the fabric, the smooth flow of breasts and hips, there were none.It was like a demented child’s drawing brought to life: Eddie couldn’t look more proud of it.

“You must have been dreaming about this day since you were a little girl.I had to guess the exact measurements, but I got a good sense of them when we...” he paused, clearly thinking back to their ‘moment’ in the attic.“There’s me being vulgar again! Now, tell me what you think.”

Waylon’s mouth was suddenly very dry. _What he thought?_ He thought that the only thing that could make the dress look better was to rip the travesty in two.But... it would do no good to antagonise the man about to save Lisa.For that, he would say anything.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful,” he managed to choke out.“Thank you.”

Although the words sounded totally hollow to Waylon, as they were, Eddie seemed delighted by them.The demon flashed his white teeth at him. “Ah, my darling, I knew you’d like it.You surely will be a sight to behold.If you go and get made up, then we can begin!Now, I know it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding, but if you need me to make any alterations, then I can...”.

Waylon observed Eddie as he talked.He was a strange figure, a hulking, lumbering man - a demon - fussing over a wedding dress and whether he had stitched on too much lace.He was a contradiction: how could such a fearsome figure almost simultaneously appear so... pitiful?Yeah, that was it.Eddie, The Groom, was an almost pathetic figure, despite the fact he was clearly dangerous.Waylon wasn’t blind to the clear bloodstains on his suit, the man’s powerful build, the warnings he had read before summoning him.Needless to say, he felt reassured by the comforting weight of the gun resting in his inside pocket.

“..and then of course we’ll have the honeymoon.I’ve got the perfect place in mind, you’ll love it!It’s a little place...”

Loneliness, Waylon realised, did strange things to people.Yes, Eddie was clearly delusional, but he was crying out for companionship.Waylon could probably recognise it so well because he was in the same situation.His companion, Lisa, was currently lost to him, caught in a state of limbo between his world and the next, just close enough to make him long for her, but not far enough to give him the space to heal.But that was going to change. 

He was going to get her back.

Waylon’s wounded hand throbbed as he clenched his fists.God, how his whole body ached.

“Lisa.”

Eddie paused in his monologue.He looked down at Waylon.“What’s that, darling?”

“I need you to help Lisa first.”

A crease formed between his brows.“But _darling_ , we-”

“No, Eddie,” Waylon’s voice was firm.“You help Lisa, and then we do this - not the other way round.We had a deal.You heal her: I marry you.” 

Eddie continued to stare, apparently baffled by what he was saying.Waylon decided to persevere, regardless.

“Here, I brought what you needed,” he said and removed the hair and photograph from his satchel.He held them out for Eddie to take.“These mean that you can do it, right?” 

Eddie didn’t move.He looked at Waylon, the photo and the lock of hair as if unable to fully process what was being asked of him.The crease between his brows deepened and, with a snarl, he abruptly jerked around, striding away from Waylon.As he moved, he violently kicked a fallen pew out of his way - it skid across the floor and collided with the altar - the sound of it was amplified in the near empty church. 

Eddie stopped in front of the unfinished mural Waylon had noticed earlier and stared up at the blank faces of the saints.Angels and demons.The whole thing has a scent of the sacrilegious about it.Eddie’s back was stiffly upright and Waylon could see the man’s hands clench and unclench.The demon was muttering something, spitting out syllables venomously, but it was too indistinct for Waylon to make out the words.

One thing was certain to him: he did not want Eddie to stay like this. 

The Groom’s normal demeanour with all his ‘darlings’ and fixation on Waylon was uncomfortable, but this side of the demon felt dangerous.Working for Murkoff, although it was a morally bankrupt institution run by illustrious jerks such as Jeremy Blaire, had taught him one thing: how to spot a summoning about to badly, badly wrong.Waylon haddeveloped a sort of sixth sense for when a demon was about to go berserk.He was still sure that the summoning process scrambled the creatures’ mental faculties in some way, but they were almost predictable in their unpredictability.Eddie was giving off some serious warning signs, and Waylon wasn’t going to allow the monster to kill him before it had saved Lisa.

He needed a new approach and fast. However, the only strategy that came to him made him uneasy.Waylon had never really thought of himself as a liar before, but he couldn’t see a way of getting through this without reevaluating that belief.

Stepping carefully over broken pieces of furniture, Waylon tentatively made his way over to the other man. He stood next to him, close enough that they were almost touching.If Eddie had noticed Waylon was there, he didn’t show it.The demon continued to mutter, and Waylon could hear slices of what Eddie was spitting out from between his teeth: ‘whore’, ‘slut’, ‘bitch’. There was more, but it was beyond repeating.The words were sharp on Eddie’s lips, sibilant snarls and spat out plosives.

Swallowing his pride and quelling his unease, Waylon slid an arm around The Groom’s waist and rested his head against his shoulder.He could feel the man tense at the contact and the hissed profanities suddenly ceased.

 _This was for Lisa._

“Please, Eddie,” he said, running his uninjured hand up and down the man’s arm, caressing it,“do this for me and then... and then we can be together.”

Waylon could feel the man’s muscles tense and relax beneath his fingers.God, he was strong.Eddie wouldn’t need to use any demonic power to kill Waylon, he could just as easily beat him to death.He prayed that what he was about to say would avert such a fate.

“Please, I only want you to heal that woman so we can have the wedding.She means nothing to me,” the lies slipped from Waylon’s lips with surprising fluidity.“It’s just one mortal - fix her and then we can have the wedding.I-” he faltered, stumbling over his words, “I just love you so much. _I love you..._ ”

When Waylon was a child, his mother had taken him to the circus.It had been a thoroughly underwhelming experience.The clowns were more tragic than funny and the acrobats were less exciting than what he saw every day on television.However, there was one act that had awed him: the lion tamer.Young Waylon had watched, amazed, as the man had slipped his head between the jaws of the beast, smiling, remained there for what felt like an eternity and then strode away to the rapturous applause of the crowd. 

Was that what Waylon was now doing?Would he receive a standing ovation for his performance?Or would the beast bite down?

Waylon held his breath and waited.

The silence was invasive; he breathed it in and tasted it on his tongue.Thankfully, it was soon broken. 

Eddie sighed deeply and slowly turned.They were now face to face and Waylon could look up at the man’s scarred visage.His mismatched eyes were enigmatic as ever, but the dangerous tension of moments ago was evaporating as Waylon watched.Eddie, with surprising gentleness, wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.Waylon could feel Eddie breathe against his hair, taking in his scent.The position was intensely intimate, uncomfortably so.Eddie’s peculiar, musty scent - old fabric mixed with iron - jolted Waylon back to the last time they had been so close: the attic.He tensed in Eddie’s embrace.

They were still fixed in the same position when Eddie began to speak.“I suppose I can do it for you now - a wedding gift for my blushing bride,” he breathed.“It is a little...unconventional, it is our big day, after all, but I suppose it will have to do.”

“Thank you,” Waylon was surprised to find himself close to tears.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with the ritual - you go and get dressed while I fix the mortal.”

“But-”

“No, darling, it wouldn’t be proper,” his tone was firm.“Go and change - I can’t wait to see you,” the voice was more insistent now, softer. “Just think of our wedding night.”

There was a long pause.

“Alright.”

It was an odd sort of exchange.Waylon took the wedding dress from Eddie; Eddie took Lisa’s photograph and lock of hair from Waylon.They were exchanging what was most precious to them, their hopes.He had a sudden, vivid recollection of a line from a poem he had used to know, one he had been forced to learn at school: ‘I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.’The lines came to him unbidden, but with perfect clarity.Why?Is that what was going on here?He wasn’t sure.

Waylon’s hand burned with a hot, red pain as he held the wedding dress.

* * *

 

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Waylon felt like an utter fool. 

He was in a small anteroom, presumably intended to be for storage, to the side of the main church.It was dark (there was only one narrow, high window) and it smelt of damp and disuse. 

The dress was a travesty.It looked bad enough before Waylon had been wearing it, and he was glad that there were no mirrors in the room; he must look ludicrous.The fact that it actually fit well was more concerning than comforting, and he felt horribly exposed with his bare arms and legs beneath the cloth.He shivered; the cold winter air bit at his bare skin.

It was nearly time.He had removed the gun from his jacket and placed it on top of his carefully folded clothes - he had become better at household chores like that since Lisa’s illness.Resting on his neatly folded shirt, the weapon looked out of place, like a knife in a bouquet of flowers.

Waylon still wasn’t fully decided as to what he was going to do next.

Based on Eddie’s behaviour so far, the demon was just as mad as he looked; Waylon was already beginning to regret placing his trust in the man and this latest incident confirmed his concerns.If The Groom was barely able to control himself, would he really be able to help Lisa?

Despite his assurances to Eddie, Waylon shuddered to remember them, he had no intention of spending the rest of his life with such a monster.Demons were notoriously capricious: he had initiallyhoped that Eddie would drop the farcical idea of marriage.However, that now seemed extremely unlikely.The man had made him a dress, for Christ’s sake!He wouldn’t be surprised if, when he went back out there, Eddie was ready and waiting with a cake, matching wedding rings and music playing for their first dance. 

He couldn’t go through with it.But equally, he couldn’t go without Eddie’s help. _He needed Lisa back._

Waylon had limited options, but options they were.The challenge would be getting what he wanted from Eddie without being killed or, he shuddered, being ‘wedded and bedded’ in the process.

As for Lisa, what was the demon doing?Had he already finished the ritual? 

Waylon had intentionally left the door to the anteroom slightly ajar.It was only open a crack, but it was enough for Waylon to see what Eddie was up to.Thankfully, The Groom was so focussed on what he was doing that he didn’t notice Waylon’s curious eyes staring out at him.

Eddie was standing in front of the altar with his back turned to Waylon.Lisa’s smiling face peeked out from one of the man’s hands: he was holding her photograph.It was a disconcerting image, the love of his life in the hands of a monster, a monster _he_ had summoned.

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Lisa’s face.As he stared down at her, he whispered.It was quiet but insistent and with a steady rhythm.As Eddie continued to chant, he raised his injured left hand over the picture: he could see the vivid red wound across the demon’s palm, a partner to his own.Waylon watched him clench the hand into a tight fist, raking his nails across the unhealed cut. 

Waylon’s own injury ached in sympathy as he watched the blood begin to seep between the man’s fingers.In a steady trail, it dripped down onto his wife’s upturned face. 

As the liquid began to obscure Lisa’s smile, her body becoming a bloody red mass, Eddie picked up the lock of hair with his still bleeding hand.He began to wrap the hair around the photograph.As he did this, the volume of his chanting became louder, the pace faster, increasing in tone and tempo as he wrapped the hair round and round and round the picture.Eddie shouted out sounds and syllables, too unfamiliar to be called words, as he continued to glare down at what had been a picture of the love of Waylon’s life.

Lisa’s photo was now a matted, bloody lump in Eddie’s hand.The demon continued to bark out sounds louder and louder, wind the hair faster and faster.And as Waylon watched, he could have sworn that he saw the mass move in Eddie’s palm... 

Bile rose in Waylon’s throat and he had to fight it back. _Was this what he had wanted?_ He watched the crimson mass twitch and writhe. Whatever he was watching was as unnatural as it was unholy.And it was only happening because he had willed it to.

And as Eddie chanted and as Waylon watched, nausea curling in his belly, miles and miles away, in a lonely hospital room, Lisa began to wake up.


	4. Tumble and Fall

“We know what we are, but not what we may be.”

William Shakespeare, _Hamlet_

* * *

 

There was no way out.He was trapped.The moment he’d summoned that monster, Waylon had dug his own grave.All he had to do now was lie in it. 

Waylon was back in the anteroom, huddled in a corner and still wearing that abominable dress. Now, however, the satin was peppered with blood stains; they were a vivid red against the off-white fabric. 

Earlier this day, Waylon had been hopeful.Lisa was within his grasp and he was, as of yet, blissfully unaware of just how much of a monster he had called into the world.That had been less than an hour ago.In less than an hour, all Waylon’s hope for the future had now been dashed.Now, Waylon was certain that he was going to die.

Eddie had finally stopped pounding on the door and a foreboding silence filled the small room.The yelling had stopped too, but Waylon’s ears still rang with Eddie’s screamed accusations of “Whore!”, “Liar!” and too many other profanities to list.The pure venom behind the words had been chilling.What Eddie had said he was going to do to Waylon when he found him had been worse.Waylon shuddered.Eddie may have fallen silent for now, but Waylon wasn’t so much of a fool to believe that The Groom had given up on his ‘bride’.

After what had happened in the church, the horror of it, Waylon had fled to the anteroom. Eddie had blocked his path to the main doors, the only way outside, so here Waylon was: a rabbit in a trap, waiting for the hunter to return.In an adrenaline fuelled frenzy, Waylon had bolted the door and pushed anything and everything against it.Hastily piled chairs, a desk missing most of its drawers and an empty bookcase formed a rough barricade against heavy oak door.Waylon stared at the eclectic mound of furniture, breath ragged in his throat.Would it be enough? Would that thing be able to get through?He wasn’t sure.After what he’d seen, he wasn’t sure of anything any more.

Waylon put his head in his hand, tears trickling between his fingers.He held back a sob and then asked the empty room,“What the fuck have I done?”

**Flashback: Before the Fall**

Waylon recoiled from the image of Eddie and the malformed, bloody lump that had once been a photograph of his smiling wife.The image burned into his retinas and he scrunched his eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out what he had seen.He gulped in breath like a man drowning and bile burned in his throat.This was not what he had intended.This was unholy.

In his haste to retreat from the door, Waylon stumbled on the fabric of the dress he was wearing and fell.Reflexively, he reached out his hands to soften the blow, and only succeeded in mashing the painful wound on his left palm against the stone floor.Agony raced up his arm and he had to bite back a cry of pain. 

He lay sprawled on the flagstones, palms pressed painfully against the cold stone.Breathing heavily, he tried to repress the terror bubbling within at what he had seen.He failed.

From his position on the floor, the gun on the top of his pile of clothes was clearly visible. 

* * *

 

There was a whisper of satin against the stone floor of the church. 

“Are you done?” Waylon’s voice, although not loud, echoed throughout the cavernous building. 

“Oh yes, I told you it was easy.You’ve just got to have the knack fo this sort of thing.”Eddie was still at the altar, facing away from Waylon, plucking at whatever the hell he had made in his twisted ritual.His fingertips were stained with blood.“I won’t be a minute, darling.”

Although the sight of Eddie poking and podding at that thing filled him with nausea, it was a piece of luck for Waylon that Eddie was distracted.While the monster was meticulously fussing over that abomination, he wouldn’t see Waylon approach.He wouldn’t see the gun Waylon held clasped in his trembling hand. 

Cautious not to trip on the uneven floor, Waylon padded over towards Eddie.His bare feet made little sound against the stone, although it was painfully cold to the touch.He tried to use the icy sensation to distract himself from what he was about to do.Despite himself, he couldn’t help but be a little awed by just how massive Eddie was.The broad curve of his shoulders, his powerful frame, the muscles straining against his suit: the man just wasn’t built to human proportions.Waylon, who had always had a slight build, couldn’t help but feel vulnerable in the face of such raw strength. He gripped the gun more tightly in his hand.

Eddie sensed the smaller man’s presence behind him.“Just a moment, darling,” he crooned, “the finishing touches can’t be rushed.”

It was time.Eddie was still distracted, bent over the altar plucking and poking at that mess of blood and hair he had created.If he didn’t do it now, Waylon was sure there wasn’t going to be another opportunity.Steeling himself, Waylon raised the gun in one deliberate motion and pressed its cold barrel against the back of Eddie’s head.

The demon froze. He ceased in his ministrations and stood very, very still.“Darling,” the voice was uncertain, questioning, “What are you-”

Waylon cut in.“Look, Eddie, the deal’s off.I don’t want this - any of this.”

Silence. It was oppressive and laden with possibilities.Waylon braced himself for the storm that would inevitably come.

With carefully slow movements, Eddie straightened up, removing his bloodstained hands from the lumpen mass on the altar.Waylon’s gun was still pressed against the back of the demon’s skull, although he strained to keep it there when the other man stood at his full height.

When Eddie did finally break the silence, it was not how Waylon had expected him to.Instead of responding with anger, fury or denial, the man laughed. It started as a soft chuckle, but grew in mirth and volume until the church reverberated with the sound of it.Eddie’s shoulders shook and Waylon had a difficult time holding the gun steady.

Eddie regained control of himself and lifted a grimy hand to his face, presumably to wipe away a tear or two.“But, darling,” he said, voice still tinged with amusement, “don’t you see it’s already far too late for that?”

Waylon’s stomach lurched and, to his surprise, the wound on his palm began to burn. Why now?The smouldering pain distracted him for a moment, but he quickly refocused on the task at and.“No, Eddie, it’s not too late.I- I shouldn’t have summoned you.Whatever you’ve done here, whatever this is,” he waved a hand at the grizzly remains of the ritual on the altar, “I don’t want a part of it.I-I don’t want a part of it!I’ve already got a wife and children!”His voice wavered and the hand that help the gun shook heavily.

Eddie shifted in front of him.With exaggerated slowness, the demon began to turn to face the smaller man.

“Don’t move!” Waylon shouted, moving back a few shaky steps with his aim fixed on the demon’s head, but Eddie ignored him. 

Evening had finally closed in. Standing with his back to the stained glass windows, Eddie was a silhouette in the darkness.Weak moonlight filtered in through the high, narrow windows and only his unnaturally pale eyes were visible in the gloom.

“You want to leave me?”Eddie had always been capricious, but the sudden shift from amusement to venom unnerved Waylon.

“Eddie, I-”

“You’re leaving me?”Eddie spat out the words.“After I’ve done all this for you?All of this?”He gestured to the sullied altar behind him.Even in the murk, Waylon could see the dark stains against the white marble. 

“I- I have to! I can’t do this!What you’re doing is wrong!”The hand holding the gun was now slippery with sweat. 

Eddie continued as if Waylon had never spoken.“You all want to leave me? Is that it? You want to leave me? Fine! You and the rest of these ungrateful sluts!”As Eddie spoke, his words became louder and louder until he was bellowing at the smaller man.“I'll rip the womb from your rotten guts!”

Eddie advanced on Waylon.He moved with alarming speed. 

“Don’t move!” Waylon cried, retreating from the creature, terror roiling in his gut.“I’ll shoot!I’ll shoot!”

As Waylon retreated, Eddie closed in on Waylon with long strides. “Get over here, you ungrateful little bitch!”

Eddie, his pale, mad eyes illuminated in the moonlight, was right in front of Waylon now.He snarled, scarred lip curling back to reveal white teeth.He grabbed the front of Waylon’s dress, ripping the delicate material andcausing the much smaller man to cry out.He jerked back his free arm back in preparation to strike.

Waylon panicked and squeezed the trigger.

A shot rang out. It snapped through all other sound and reverberated throughout the church, echoing and echoing and echoing until it gradually began to fade. 

As the last sound began to die away, Eddie’s grip on the front of Waylon’s dress loosened.The demon folded in on himself, tall body falling prone to the floor.Waylon’s face was an exaggerated mask of terror and shock as he stared down at the other man.The gun clattered to the floor and Waylon recoiled from the body and what he had done.Half of Eddie’s head was missing.

Bitter bile rose in Waylon’s throat and he staggered away.Leaning against a wall for support, gasping for air like a drowning man, Waylon pressed his face into his hands.The cut on his palm pulsed and burned, the salt water of his tears adding to the dull pulse of pain. In front of him, Eddie’s body lay still.Blood had begun to pool around what was left of the head. 

Disbelief roared through Waylon.What had he done?Not only had he failed Lisa, but he had become a killer in the process.Yes, he had pulled the trigger on Eddie, but hadn’t he killed her hope for life along with him?How could he ever face her now?How could he ever face their children?He fell to his knees and retched, spitting the bile out onto the icy floor. The taste was sharp on his tongue and he gasped in air, trying to calm his rapid breathing as his stomach convulsed.

As Waylon knelt on the floor, knees pressing against the rough stone, there was a sound from the other side of the church.Against his volition, his gaze was inevitably drawn to the body sprawled in front of him.Eddie’s body.

It was moving. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recently, I’ve had a bit of an epiphany. In years gone by, when reading fan fiction I would look for one thing: the dick. I would hope for maximum amount of sex in minimum amount of time with as much gnarly man on man action as humanly possible within the constraints of a few thousand words. 
> 
> I have recently come to the realisation that the slow burn, the build up of tension before the inevitable ‘sexy time’ is (almost) as fun as the moment itself. So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m withholding the dick. I’m withholding the dick so that we can enjoy the anticipation - like the night before Christmas. ;)
> 
> Thank you for all your support, comments and kudos so far. I’m hoping to wrap this one up over the festive season.


	5. The Space Between

“Tell me not in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.”

H.W. Longfellow, Voices of the Night

* * *

 

Terror, in its purest, rawest form, is a short lived thing.Fear is fleeting.It is a sudden, visceral rush of adrenaline that grips you hard before letting go.And once gone, it leaves an empty space in its wake.

It was now deep into the night.Waylon had gone beyond terror; his supply of fear had long since been exhausted and now he was hollow, now he was numb.Waylon had lost all sense of time.How long had he been there waiting, huddled against the cold, for Eddie to come and take vengeance on his runaway bride?An hour?Two hours?More?Or had hardly any time passed at all?Perhaps, Waylon thought, knowing that the end was imminent, his mind had decided to stretch out its last remaining moments for as long as possible, clinging desperately to the sinking ship that was Waylon’s life.The idea left a bitter taste in Waylon’s mouth. 

Good times last for an instant; bad times drag on for an eternity.It felt like the last seven months of his life, the drudgery since Lisa’ illness, he had been living in a monochrome world.Why was it, when everything was coming to a close, that he suddenly had such pangs of longing for what had been?Lisa...his children.It was not to be.

As Waylon sat on the cold stone floor of the church anteroom, his thoughts felt sluggish and his anger felt strangely muted, as if he had been drained of all emotion.After the horror of what he had seen, Eddie coming back to life, smashed open head reforming in front of his eyes, the subsequent rage and struggle to escape from that monster, Waylon felt weighted down with exhaustion.Terror was an emotion that consumed.

A new sensation suddenly cut across Waylon’s senses.The palm of his hand, the one he had cut in the obscene ritual with Eddie, began to thrum with sensation.It was warm, uncomfortably so, as if someone had just pressed hot metal into his outstretched palm. 

Still sluggish, he lifted the hand to check the wound.He could see no visible difference - it looked just as it had earlier that day: a crimson gash, vivid against the pale skin of his palm.It had been throbbing sporadically since he’d come to the church, but this felt different; it had an intensity that hadn’t before. Had infection finally set in?Or, as he had smeared demon blood into the very same wound, perhaps some terrible disease, as of yet unknown to humans, would strike him down before Eddie ever got the chance?It was a strangely comforting thought.

Over the next few minutes, the sensation failed to abate.Instead, it got stronger.Alone in the darkness, there was nothing to distract Waylon from the searing pain.He grit his teeth and bit back a whimper. Why was the world so unfair?Not only had it taken his wife from him, but it wouldn’t even grant him peace before facing his inevitable demise at The Groom’s hands.

The sensation began to spread.His body felt uncomfortably warm, as if he was running a high fever.Sweat beaded on his brow and he licked his suddenly dry lips.And it continued to strengthen.His arms, his legs, his chest, his entire body was engulfed with a feeling of heat that continued to get stronger and stronger, until Waylon felt as though invisible pins were jabbing into his flesh again and again and again. It was everywhere now: he was on fire, inside and out.

Waylon gasped and screwed his eyes shut, tears oozing from between the closed lids.He curled in onhimself, in agony and unable to even cry out.Lisa, the children, Eddie: all of them were forgotten in the face of a pain too terrible to put into words. 

‘ _Ithurtsmakeitstopithurtsmakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop_ ,’ was all Waylon’s tortured mind could bring itself to think.The pain was indescribable and all Waylon could do was curl in on himself, suffering and not knowing why, wishing and wishing for it to be over, anything for it to end, unable to even cry out.If only he could make it stop.He’d do anything to make it stop. _Someone -anyone- please!Just make it stop!_

And, in a way, it did stop.Unable to cope with the sheer amount of pain flooding his senses, Waylon finally, mercifully, blacked out.His prone body slumped to the cold stone floor of the church.Even when unconscious, he continued to shake and moan gently, unable to fully escape the pain that devoured him. 

As Waylon lay motionless on the floor, he didn’t see the growing darkness gather in the room.Waylon didn’t see that darkness shift, intensify and _begin to take shape_. 

With no summoning circle to aid him, _he didn’t need one now_ , Eddie Gluskin materialised in the room.His collar was splattered with blood, an unfortunate reminder of that shameful incident with his bride earlier, but he was otherwise unchanged.He had been angry, so angry with her.But, as he looked at the quivering form of his beloved before him, all his rage was nothing but a distant memory. _Anyway, a girl was bound to be nervous on her wedding day._

Eddie looked around the room, taking in the hastily piled furniture against the door, an adorable attempt at a barricade, as if that could keep him out, and Waylon whimpering and gasping and trembling on the cold stone floor. 

It had begun...

Eddie tutted to himself.He had wanted to be there when it started, to share the special moment with his bride.“Oh well,” he said, “better late than never.”

Moving to sit with his back against the wall, he pulled his bride into his lap, rocking and shushing her.He pulled her close against his chest, delighting in the sensation of her against him.She continued to whimper and shake, apparently oblivious to Eddie’s tender ministrations.Eddie felt a sharp spike of arousal at her obvious vulnerability, so feminine, so _darling_.From her position in his lap, she moved enticingly against his groin, and he felt the stirrings of passion deep in his stomach.There was nothing he would like to do more in the world than rip the dress from her trembling body and fuck her against the stone of the floor, rutting and fucking until she was delightfully filled with his seed and his lust had been fully sated.

But...things had to be done properly.Eddie was a gentleman, after all, and he needed to wait for the process to be finished.It would all be a waste, otherwise.He knew it was a hard thing for a young girl to endure, so he would have to be patient for her.

_But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a taste._

Gently, he moved his beloved slightly in his lap, groaning slightly as her weight settled against his straining erection.Patient, he needed to be patient.Tucking a finger under her chin, he lifted her delicate face and took a moment to admire her.Beautiful.Her musky scent, the weight of her body against him, it was all perfect.There were glistening tear tracks on her face, marring the pale skin.Pulling her to him, he licked at the salty trails on her cheeks, tongue lapping at her cheeks, her mouth, just beneath her eyes.She tasted divine.As a demon, Eddie had no trouble seeing in the dark, and he loved how his saliva gleamed on her smooth skin.His.She was his.

Having satisfied himself with her tears, his attention turned to the front of her wedding dress.She was a vision.The dress fitted her perfectly, as he knew it would.It highlighted her gorgeous figure, that delicate bone structure he had admired so much the first time he had set eyes on her.As his bride panted and shifted in his arms, still gripped by the pain, Eddie could see the delicate peaks of her nipples pressing against the fine fabric of the dress, chest rising and falling as she panted in her sleep. 

Eddie felt a powerful throb in his groin? _Could he..?_ But of course he could.This was only touching.The real thing could wait until later.

Gently, oh so gently, he slipped the soft fabric of his beloved’s dress from her shoulders.The pale skin that was revealed captivated him.He wanted to sink his teeth into the flesh and bite down, marking her as his for all to see.But again... that could wait. 

Raising a hand, he tenderly pulled at the soft fabric until it revealed what he wanted to see.Her breasts were adorable: two tender pale pink nubs that he couldn’t wait to take between his teeth.They were a little on the small side, admittedly, but that would change once she was pumped full of his seed, full of his child. 

Leaning down slightly, Eddie experimentally licked at one of the dusky peaks.Waylon gasped and shivered in his grip.Encouraged, Eddie took it between his lips, sucking and biting and licking until, when he pulled away, the bud was reddened and slightly swollen.Waylon panted and mewled in his arms.He held them between his fingertips, pinching and twisting as the sound of his beloved’s whimpers filled the air.Exquisite.

Finally, Eddie pulled away.His bride’s body lay pliant in his arms, skin gleaming with sweat and Eddie’s saliva.His cock throbbed at the sight.

It was only touching. _Surely, just a little more would be alright?_

* * *

 

As Waylon slowly regained consciousness, the first thing he noticed was that the pain had abated.He skin and muscles felt tender, yes, but gone was the searing agony that had nearly devoured him whole earlier.Free from that blazing torment, Waylon felt new, Waylon felt re-born.

The second thing Waylon noticed was the pleasure.There was a hot wet warmth between his legs and, in that blissful gap between dream and reality, he thought of Lisa and the tender intimacies they had shared between them, the warmth of their bed. 

A smile crept onto his face.Lisa.Another lazy morning where they stole as much time as they could together before the children awoke.Smile still tugging at his lips, he raised himself slightly so that he could look at her, a tender comment ready and waiting on his lips. 

He opened his eyes.Despite the gloom of the church anteroom, Waylon could see perfectly.His mind, still fuzzy from sleep, couldn’t entirely process what it was seeing.

Eddie was knelt between his legs, lapping and sucking at Waylon’s erect cock.Occasionally, he paused to place a biting kiss on the top of one of Waylon’s thighs.Eddie’s other hand was buried between Waylon’s legs and, to Waylon’s horror, he realised that the monster’s fingers were inside of him.As The Groom licked at Waylon’s cock, his thick fingers pumped in and out of him, stretching his hole wide and pawing obscenely at his insides.There was a viscous liquid on his stomach, pearly white against his flushed skin.Semen?Whether it was his or Eddie’s, he didn’t know. 

Mind whirring, unable to entirely comprehend what was being done to him, Waylon realised that he was completely naked.He had been laid out like a banquet on top of some scrappy off white material, the wedding dress, he realised with a jolt, for Eddie to feast upon. 

Red marks covered his pale skin.They were on his chest - his nipples were surrounded by them and looked swollen and abused - the rest of his torso and the tops of his legs, where Eddie continued to lap and suck and paw at him. Bite marks, he dully realised, he was covered in bite marks.While he had been unconscious, Eddie had licked, sucked and bitten at every inch of him. _Who knew what else the monster had done?_

Waylon’s mind finally snapped into horrific focus. 

A desperate whine escaped Waylon and he bucked wildly, trying to dislodge Eddie and the fingers pushed so deeply inside of him.Although Eddie hadn’t realised Waylon had regained consciousness, when the smaller man began to thrash in his grip he reacted on impulse.The fingers were yanked free, the sensation causing Waylon to gasp, and Eddie gripped Waylon’s thighs hard, preventing him from escaping. 

Waylon continued to flail in Eddie’s grasp.“ _Get away from me!_ ” he gasped between breaths.“ _Get the fuck away from me!_ ”The monster would kill him!The monster would kill him!

In the end, Eddie had to press his full body weight down on Waylon to subdue the smaller man.In this position, Waylon could clearly feel Eddie’s clothed erection press against him, rubbing between his naked thighs.He would have screamed if he could, would have yelled and fought and got the fuck away from that monster, but couldn’t find the breath to under Eddie’s immense weight, he didn’t have the strength to push him off. _He was trapped._

While Waylon thrashed and cried and fought him, Eddie had attempted to soothe his reluctant bride.He’d tried to whisper sweet nothings, press kisses into his hair, but Waylon had been to panicked to acknowledge any of it.Now, however, his beloved was quiet again.She lay still in his arms and the only movement was the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Darling, I know you’re nervous, but try to be reasonable,” Eddie said, gently stroking Waylon’s hair away from his face.“We’re married now.It’s my right to do this, for us, for our children.”

“But I’m a man!” Waylon yelled, renewing his efforts andpushing frantically against Eddie.“You’re not going to get any children from me!And I’m already married, for Christ’s sake!”

“Oh darling, don’t think human rules apply to the likes of us.”

Waylon’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.“What?”

Eddie smiled down at him.He spoke to Waylon as if he was a child having trouble understanding a basic concept.“Haven’t you felt it?Since we mixed our blood, your body has been changing.From what I can sense, the transformation is almost complete.Yes, you were married as a human.But as a demon, you’re mine.”

Moments from the last few days assaulted Waylon’s mind. The constant aching, the tiredness, the relentless pain from the wound on his hand.Had that been more than just pain?Had that been him... transforming?Transforming from something human into... Of course not - it was unthinkable!The very idea was insane! 

“You’re lying, you psychotic fuck!I’m human!” he snarled.

Eddie remained unfazed by Waylon’s anger.If anything, his smile became a little deeper, his eyes a little warmer - an affectionate parent grappling with a troublesome child.“You were human, my love,” he said, “and as for our wedding, I’m sorry to have deceived you, but the real ceremony has already happened.It was when we swapped our blood.It began the process of you becoming mine, like me.All we need to do now is make it official.” 

Waylon couldn’t process half of what Eddie was saying to him, that bullshit about him being a demon, but he could definitely understand the push of Eddie’s erection against his stomach. 

“ _Get away from me!Get away!_ ”Waylon may as well have pleaded with a hurricane.Eddie wasn’t going to stop, not now.

The Groom reached down a hand and freed his straining erection.Holding Waylon’s arms pinned above his head, he then reached down a strong hand to pull Waylon’s hips up to his crotch.

“I stretched you out pretty well earlier, so you should be ready for me.”

As he spoke, Eddie pressed the blunt head of his cock against Waylon’s opening.It was slick, and Eddie rubbed it up and down the crack of Waylon’s ass teasingly.Waylon squeezed his eyes shut.This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening...

“So wet for me,” Eddie said, transfixed by the sight.He pressed the head in just slightly before pulling back again. “Such an eager little cunt...”

Waylon mewled at the sensation.Eddie wasn’t pushing in fully, he was pressing against his hole until he was just about to penetrate, and then pulling back again.It was torture.The sensation wold have been uncomfortable if he hadn’t already been slick with Eddie’s pre-come and saliva. 

Suddenly, Eddie pushed forward with more pressure and the head forced its way inside.Despite being slick with Eddie’s pre-come, it still burned as it entered.Waylon shrieked and clawed at Eddie’s back. _It hurt!It hurt!Eddie was too big!_

“Darling, relax,” Eddie cooed, placing gentle kisses on Waylon’s face, “I’ve got to do this so that I can see you’re ready for me.”

Waylon nearly sobbed with relief when the demon pulled back and out of him, but it was short lived.The head of his penis was swiftly replaced with prying fingers that scissored the walls of his flesh, pulling his hole uncomfortably wide. 

“Stop, please!” Waylon half cried, half sobbed as Eddie stretched and stretched his opening.“It hurts!”

“I know - I know, the first time is always difficult,” Eddie said as he continued to relentlessly force his fingers in and out of Waylon, “ but remember you’re doing this for us.You’re doing this for our baby.”

It took a moment for Waylon’s panicked mind to register what the monster was saying.“I’m a man, you fucking bastard, I can’t-” his words were cut off with a gasp as Eddie pressed a small bundle of nerves deep inside of him.Waylon saw stars.

Eddie smirked down at him.He pulled out his fingers with a wet sound; they glistened in the dim light.“Darling, you’re a demon now,” he said.“Do you really think a small thing like that could stop us from having a child?”

Waylon said nothing: he was still recovering from Eddie’s latest onslaught.He wasn’t in the least prepared for what was about to come.

Not taking his eyes off Waylon, Eddie spat into the palm of his hand and then rubbed it up and down his throbbing erection.He didn’t want to unnecessarily damage his beloved, so he needed to be as slick as possible. 

It was time. 

The demon grabbed Waylon and pushed him onto all fours, pressing his bride’s face against the flagstones of the floor.By this time, Waylon had partially recovered and was starting to struggle.He cried out and tried to evade Eddie’s merciless grip.It was futile, however. 

Ignoring Waylon’s desperate cries and pleas for him to stop, The Groom lined his member up with his beloved’s opening and pushed forward until the head of his cock was pressed against Waylon’s hole. 

Waylon froze.“Please don’t,” he gasped.“Please don’t. I don’t-” but was cut off with a strangled shriek as Eddie ruthlessly pushed forward until he was fully sheathed in the much smaller man. 

The wet heat of his bride’s tight cunt was blissful around Eddie’s cock. He thrust forward experimentally, drinking in his Waylon’s delicious gasps and cries.It was utter perfection.

Waylon was in hell.Eddie’s cock felt huge inside him and his hole was stretched agonisingly to accommodate the demon’s monstrous girth.How could his body ever return to normal after this?As Eddie thrust into him, Waylon’s face was forced against the rough stone of the floor. 

Eddie fucked him like an animal, rutting into Waylon with wild, savage thrusts.Waylon’s lower half, pushed to breaking point by Eddie’s violent rutting, felt as though it was on fire, it hurt so muchBut, despite the pain, Waylon was horrified to realise his traitorous body was responding. 

Eddie noticed and laughed.“Oh, _darling_ ,” he crooned between thrusts, “such an eager little whore, such a ready and waiting cunt.”

Suddenly, Waylon was lifted and turned so that he was sat in The Groom’s lap, face to face with his tormentor, with those haunting, mismatched eyes.Eddie grinned down at him, sweat from the exertion of their lovemaking, if the word could be used to describe violent, ruthless coupling, clear on his brow.Waylon would have snarled or clawed at that smirking face, but Eddie shifted inside of him and any thoughts of vengeance were forced out of his mind.A moan escaped from between Waylon’s lips, and his erection pressed against The Groom’s shirt, staining it with pre-come. 

“That’s my darling, my beloved little _slut_ ,” murmured Eddie, as he leaned forward to capture Waylon’s abused lips in a kiss.

Waylon gasped against Eddie’s lips, involuntarily giving the monster access to his mouth.Eddie’s tongue pushed inside, thrusting and pressing against Waylon’s own.The smaller man could do nothing but take it, Eddie’s saliva flooding his mouth and mixing with his own.Waylon gulped it down: there was nothing else he could do.When Eddie finally pulled away, he swallowed thickly.The Groom tasted like blood.

How long it lasted, Waylon couldn’t tell.Eddie fucked him in different positions, sometimespulling out to push his fingers or tongue into Waylon’s aching hole, but it all felt slightly unreal, like it was happening to someone else.He knew he reached climax, forced to it by vicious pumps of Eddie’s hand, but he barely felt it.It was as if he was a ghost in his own body. 

However, Waylon’s fragile solace didn’t last for long.

“Darling,” Eddie gasped against him, placing biting kisses along his neck.“I’m going to come in you now.I know you can’t wait to be a mother.”

Waylon registered the words and snapped back to reality.He began to struggle frantically.

“ _No!_ ” Waylon shrieked, desperately trying to pull away, to pull Eddie out of him.“ _I don’t want it!I don’t want it!_ ”

But it was too late.Eddie’s thrusts became more erratic and then stilled.He pulled Waylon towards him in a crushing embrace, and the smaller man could already feel the hot spurts of the demon’s come erupt deep inside of him.He sobbed openly.

It was over. 

After what felt like an eternity, Eddie pulled back and placed a gently kiss on his distraught bride’s forehead. He licked away Waylon’s tears, as he had done what felt like a lifetime ago, and pulled out of the smaller man.Standing, Eddie tucked himself away before busying himself with his beloved. 

Ignoring her feeble protests, he pulled her legs open and inspected the damage.She was stretched and red and swollen, yes, but there was no blood and he could only see a slight trickle of his seed from when he had pulled out.On the whole, it had gone very well.Although he couldn’t be certain she was pregnant, not yet, they had an eternity together and he would make sure of it soon.The thought left Eddie feeling warm and tender inside. 

Gently, oh so gently, he wrapped his beloved in the stained wedding dress, tender reminders of their love making, and took her up into his arms.His.His bride.The ceremony was finally complete and it was time to take her home.

In the dark of the room, arcane circles of runes began to glow purple beneath Eddie’s feet.However, this wasn’t a summoning circle.This is what would enable Eddie to travel back to the other side with his new bride.It was a new beginning for them both, their family. 

The light of the circle intensified to a near painful brightness and then suddenly darkened.Both Eddie and Waylon were gone, and all that was left behind them was emptiness and the darkness of the room.

Waylon was gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back.

* * *

 

Miles away, Lisa Park awoke to an empty room.She blinked, taking in the sterile white walls around her.

“Waylon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Waylon... but I suppose it goes to show that you should always read the small print before signing any contract, especially with demented monsters from an alternate dimension. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! The comments and the kudos are much appreciated and gave me the motivation to blitz through this chapter at record speed. 
> 
> I’ve had real fun writing this and hope you enjoyed the story. Feel free to get in touch if you have any questions or comments!
> 
> Disclaimer: As we all know, non-con is fun in fiction, not in reality.


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